THE eye must be dark that so long has been dim, Ere again it may gaze upon thine; But my heart has revealings of thee and thy home, In many a token and sign: I need but look up with a vow to the sky, And a light like thy beauty is there; And I hear a low murmur like thine in reply, When I pour out my spirit in prayer. And though, like a mourner that sits by a tomb, I am wrapp'd in the mantle of care, Yet the grief of my bosom -- oh, call it not gloom! -- Is not the dark grief of despair. By sorrow reveal'd, as the stars are by night, Far off a bright vision appears; A hope -- like the rainbow -- a being of light, Is born, like the rainbow, in tears. I know thou art gone to the home of thy rest; Then why should my soul be so sad? I know thou art gone where the weary are blest, And the mourner looks up and is glad; -- Where love has put off, in the land of its birth. The stain it had gather'd in this, And hope, the sweet singer that gladden'd the earth Lies asleep on the bosom of bliss. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...POETS ARE BORN NOT MADE by ROBERT FROST DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: DIRGE FOR WOLFRAM by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE SEARCH (1) by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL EXODUS FOR OREGON by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER PSALM 49 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 42. FAREWELL TO JULIET (4) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT SONNET, WRITTEN AT THE COUCH OF A DYING PARENT by ELIZA COOK |